


they let their wings down

by banditchika



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-10 11:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14736132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditchika/pseuds/banditchika
Summary: And they were in love! A collection of drabbles about Fire Emblem women and their fraught (or not so fraught) romances.Latest Chapter:Sumia and Cordelia, Flower Shop AU





	1. lucisev, new neighbors

Okay, this? This is just getting ridiculous. 

“Just look at her, Cynthia.” Severa seethes as she peers through the crack in the blinds. Her sister nudges her headset off one ear, hardly even sparing a glance at the window. 

“Can’t see when the blinds are closed, sis!” Severa hears tinny shooting noises from the headset. She scowls. 

“Then pause your game and come over here. And lower your volume! You’re going to give yourself tinnitus.” Cynthia sighs, and Severa can just imagine her whole body slumping into a parenthesis over her keyboard. It’s a miracle that Cynthia doesn’t trip as she untangles herself from their creaky, worn-out office chair, and nothing short of divine intervention that she only stumbles once while winding through the living room. 

The sofa groans when Cynthia hops onto it. “Okay. So what’s she doing this time?”

Severa points. “A cat got stuck in that tree a little while ago. She’s rescuing it. By herself.” 

“No way! She is!?” Severa takes an elbow to the collar as Cynthia shoves her face into the window. Gods, she’s going to leave breathing stains on the glass! Severa just washed that! Cynthia gusts out a sigh, a goofy grin spreading across her face. “Oh, wow, she is… Sis, I wanna be her when I grow up.” 

“You’re nineteen. She’s only a few years older. Don’t be so dramatic.” She nudges Cynthia to get a better look, just in time to see Lucina descending from a ladder with slow, careful steps. The fattest cat that Severa has ever seen sits cradled in her arms, its tail lashing through the air. 

Cynthia bumps her shoulder. “Lucina’s so nice, isn’t she?” 

“If anything, she’s too nice,” sighs Severa, watching Lucina drop back onto solid ground. There’s a scratch along the curve of her cheek, and Severa grimaces as the cat hops from Lucina’s arms and waddles away. Ungrateful little beast. “I can’t believe she made us a welcome dinner.” 

“Yeah…” Cynthia sighs. Her cheeks dimple when she grins. “And I can’t believe she wasn’t even mad when I dropped it!”

“Right in front of her, too.” Severa shakes her head, pulling away from the window in disgust. She’s already reliving the moment: Lucina, face frozen in a smile while pasta coats her shoes and the hems of her slacks; Cynthia, face down over the doorstep with the remains of the baking tin crumpled in her fists; and Severa, holding the door, one hand still outstretched from where the hood of Cynthia’s sweatshirt had slipped from her grasp. 

Ugh. Of course Cynthia would find a way to trip over–what, an ant? 

“Is she trying for a neighbor of the month award? Why is she so nice?” Severa tries to fight her scowl–Mom always used to say that her face would freeze that way if she wasn’t careful, and though she knows it’s superstition now, old habits die hard–but finds her brows drawing together despite herself. 

They moved into this cul-de-sac three days ago. Three. And for three days now, Lucina has not failed to ring their doorbell at the exact same time with some new and annoyingly helpful welcoming gift. First, it had been the lasagna, then an invitation to dinner with Lucina’s family, and just yesterday she had brought them a first aid kit after spotting Cynthia wobbling and toppling from a ladder and into Severa’s arms in a failed attempt to free a squirrel from their rain gutter. 

(The worst part is that the squirrel hadn’t even been stuck: just too lazy to move.) 

Severa doesn’t want to imagine what stupid neighborly thing Lucina will do today. Her pride won’t let her. Lucina is ridiculously pretty, talented, and _nice_ , and Severa is well-within her rights to be suspicious. No one’s that perfect, not even Severa. Especially not Severa.

Maybe Lucina is an alien from the Black Lizard Planet or whatever that stupid show Cynthia watches (that Severa _definitely_ doesn’t keep up with, no way!) comes up with, and she’s just buttering up the two of them so that they won’t put up resistance when she spirits them away. Severa sneers. Or maybe Lucina is just a good, decent person, and Severa can’t stand it because the gleam of her is too fucking bright. 

The sun shines gold through the slats of their blinds, catching motes of dust as the light pools into Severa’s lap. Lucina’s stupid, perfect mane of hair is limned bright as she turns to their house–and the crease of Severa’s mouth eases as Lucina raises a brown, calloused hand. 

Cynthia waves back, and Severa grumbles only a little as she goes to open the door.


	2. sumidelia, flowershop au

Sumia has been Cordelia’s best friend since kindergarten. 

She was pretty at eight in starched, lacy dresses and ribbons that had no place in a park playground. 

She was lovely at eighteen, pink-cheeked and shy as she slipped a corsage onto Cordelia’s wrist. 

She is beautiful at twenty-nine, the ends of her hair barely brushing her shoulders, hands brown with dirt as she presses seeds into clay pots that march up and down the sides of the store. Cordelia, who still has awards for painting and horseback riding lining her shelves, who plays chess and builds model sets on her spare time, finds that her hands aren’t so steady that they will keep her bag from falling to the ground at the sight of her. 

She hasn’t seen those soft doe eyes in years. Sumia’s mouth falls open as she takes Cordelia in: she must look so foolish with her purse forgotten on the floor, her eyes wide and staring, a smear of shadow and rouge in the flower shop’s sunlight.

“Cordelia!” Sumia’s voice shatters the silence. She drops her seeds, then drops to the ground as her foot catches on a crack in the tile. Cordelia rushes forward–she supposes some things might never change, even with over ten years and a thousand miles between them. 

“Sumia!” 

Short though it is, her hair is still as thick and downy as Cordelia remembers, feather-soft in a way that Cordelia’s never managed to emulate. Sumia is still as Cordelia remembers, all smiling eyes and delicate mouth and narrow chin. 

Though her eyes aren’t doing much smiling now; they’re watery and wide, and though brushing tears from Sumia’s cheeks is as familiar to Cordelia as the scuffed squares of her checkerboard, it never did feel comfortable. Cordelia’s hand stills before she can touch Sumia, just close enough to feel the warmth of her skin. 

Ten years. A thousand miles. Cordelia’s heart is as a cinderblock in the sea, sinking fast. Does Sumia still consider them friends? Is this appropriate? Should she be holding Sumia like this, oh goodness– 

Sumia, however, has no such hesitations.

“You’re here,” she gasps, clutching at the arm of Cordelia’s blazer. Sumia gawks up at her, like seeing Cordelia again has made her believe in something like a miracle. “You’re really, really here.” 

The noise in Cordelia’s head quiets. She smiles, shakily, and thumbs a sticky tear from the curve of Sumia’s cheek. “Yes. I really, really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> there's a reaaaally big hint in this chapter as to which couple's going to be next!! see you soon!


End file.
